We were bare as a winter tree,
Cold and naked beneath the sky,
Frostbitten by death and despair,
Clothed in nothing but poverty.
When from heaven’s hearth warm and bright,
In glory and might God arose;
Seeing us stumble in the dark,
Shed one small tear of candlelight.
To arrive at once, weak and poor
I wonder – how far that drop fell!
Through time and space, past death and hell,
Became a babe on stable floor.
All heaven’s love in one small child,
And God – once domesticated,
With the cry of that baby boy,
Tore down His cage and became wild.
Christmas may bring a tinsel tree,
Snow globes and reindeer fantasies,
But God is where he’d rather be:
In barrenness with you and me.